


Killing Me Softly

by BarbAndCo



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Amnesia, Angst, Blood and Injury, Don't let the tags fool you-- it's not that bad, Drama & Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, It's not a slowburn it's an incinerator, M/M, Major Illness, Medical Procedures, Near Death Experiences, No beta we die like mne, Pining, Sokka/Original Characters, Strangers to Lovers, Terminal Illnesses, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Love, Zuko/Original Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbAndCo/pseuds/BarbAndCo
Summary: Zuko is in love with Sokka. It’s as simple and painful as that. And it’s never been a problem before until he feels a tickle in his throat and a single petal falls from his lips.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 151





	Killing Me Softly

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko catches feelings for Sokka. It all goes downhill from there.

Zuko is in love with Sokka. It’s as simple as that. He doesn’t know when it started. All he’s sure of is that one moment he’s minding his own business and the next he’s head over heels in the thick of it. He looked at Sokka one evening under the pale moonlight and it’s like a switch has been flipped. Sokka, a dear friend became Sokka, everything.

A simple, “ _Oh._ ”

And that was that. Zuko lives his days like he usually does, but now with the knowledge that he has given his heart away to someone who doesn’t even know it.

So far, nothing has changed.

The great thing about being in love with Sokka is that it’s so effortless. Sokka is such an easy person to love. There’s no work to it. Sokka smiles, he jokes, he makes Zuko feel comfortable, he cares so much, and Zuko enjoys floating in the deep end. He has no interest in getting out—and he’s pretty sure the exit has closed off for good even if he tries looking.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

In front of the palace steps, Zuko waits for Sokka to arrive. His friend was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago which means Zuko has been waiting for an hour. Anxiety wells in his gut as he thinks about what could cause Sokka’s delay.

Before Zuko could give in to the urge to pace, Sokka appears at the gates smiling sunnily. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief, the knot in his gut unfurling beautifully turning into fluttering butterflies flying from his stomach to his chest.

“Zuko!” Sokka yells from across the courtyard and starts running to him.

He can’t help but laugh at Sokka’s antics. He takes his time to freely look at Sokka while he’s still a few meters away. Sokka’s hair has gone longer, the warrior’s tail swinging wildly at his back. He’s grown a goatee too which is new. Sokka is still as handsome as he last saw him.

He waits until his friend is a bit closer to close the distance between them with a hug. Sokka's arms wrap around his shoulders and Zuko wants to melt into them. He holds himself together, though he does let the contact linger a second too long. Zuko can admit that he’s a selfish man and he’ll take whatever stray piece of affection he can get.

They pull apart and Zuko is once again distracted by Sokka’s smile.

“You good?” Sokka asks.

“Yeah,” he answers suddenly breathless.

“Come on, show me inside. I’m starving.” Sokka marches up to the palace like he owns the place. Zuko grins and can do nothing but follow.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

They’re in the kitchens huddled side-by-side over food Zuko asked the cooks to prepare especially for Sokka’s arrival. Sokka is in the middle of telling him his latest adventure in the Air Temples and Zuko is trying very hard not to look as besotted as he feels.

“And that’s how I accidentally pushed Teo off the cliff but at least now we know that the parachute works like a dream,” Sokka explains his latest misadventure. Turns out Sokka can get into all kinds of trouble without his help. “I mean it would’ve been fine because Aang was there, so they could’ve caught him easy, but at least I know my math is right.”

“Oh, you’re going to tell me you had any doubt?” Zuko says. “Did you develop humility the last time we saw each other?”

Sokka drops his chopsticks to put a hand over chest in mock offense. “Humility is one of my main virtues! I’m known for my humility! I’m the humblest man in the world!”

“Clearly.” Zuko smiles. “I’m sorry I’ve offended you, Ambassador Sokka Chief of Humility and Modesty.”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute or else I’d be tempted to take you in a duel.”

“Lucky me, I guess,” Zuko says in his driest tone of voice.

Sokka laughs and bumps their knees together. That's another thing that Sokka does that makes Zuko’s broken little heart go wild. He’ll drop these compliments, hints of affection. But they both know he means nothing by it.

“ _So_.” Sokka scoots closer and nudges his ribs with a pointy elbow. “What have you been up to?”

“Just the same.” Zuko takes a bite out of the honeyed ribs and chews slowly. “Dealing with the boring minutiae of running a country.”

“Woe is you.” Sokka’s got that knowing look on his face. “Are you seriously going to make me talk at you until you spill some damn state secrets?”

Zuko sighs and his face breaks decides to break into a grin, totally unbidden by his mind. “I do have some gossip but if you tell anyone this and I will deny everything, call you a liar and a cheat, and charge you with treason.”

“I love it when you threaten me with a good time.” Sokka swipes an egg roll from his plate like there aren’t heaping piles of food right in front of them. “Makes me feel like you care.”

In stolen moments like this, where he has Sokka’s complete and undivided attention, he feels special. Not in the way being royalty makes him special. Or being the ruler of a nation. Nothing to do with blood lines or special powers.

Sokka makes him feel like he’s special all on his own. Like every word, from mundane to ridiculous, is dripping gold. And every thought in his head valuable and worth listening to.

When those brilliant eyes look at him it feels like they _see_ him— not the crown, beyond the scar, past his history, just Zuko—the broken pieces and the whole. The boy before the banishment. The man who doesn’t belong to his nation. The person behind the curtain.

He can spend lifetimes completely happy in that gaze.

“So, anyway how was the trip?” Zuko asks to change the subject. He doesn't trust himself to get lost in the attention by piling food on Sokka’s plate.

“I got to Caldera a day ago actually,” Sokka does the same for him. It’s become a habit back when they were still new to the whole adults trying to serve the public. They’d spend every day during those early years learning everything they needed to know about being the best representatives of their nation. Watching out for each in every way possible.

“Why didn’t you send a hawk?” His brows draw in confusion. “I could’ve had your accommodations made earlier. It wouldn’t have been a problem.”

Sokka waves a hand dismissively. “I wanted to check out the city on my own. And plus, I didn’t want to derail your schedule.”

Zuko hums like he actually believes a word Sokka is saying and makes a face that says he knows his friend is just full of shit.

“And maybe I wanted a little time to… meet people.” Sokka does that annoying thing with his eyebrows that he’s convinced is subtle.

He rolls his eyes and hopes it hides the tinge of jealousy. “I see. And did you?”

“What do you think?” Sokka says, then that eyebrow thing again. He punches his friend on the shoulder and Sokka lets out a snort.

“Someone new?” he asks both out of burning curiosity and to keep the conversation going. Ever since Sokka’s on again off again relationship with Suki decidedly became a permanently off situation, Sokka has been exploring his options the way charming and charismatic men so often do. The ambassador’s bisexual awakening was a surprise to no one. Sokka has always been a lover before he was made to be a fighter.

Well, both their bisexual awakenings didn't surprise anyone which disappointed Zuko somewhat because it turned out the only person shocked by his revelations was himself.

“You might know him actually,” Sokka says. “Kai. He’s the—”

“The weapons artisan,” Zuko finishes for him. “Yeah. I know him. I introduced you, remember?”

“Right.” Sokka’s smile goes all sheepish. “Well, I needed some advice on forging a couple of days ago and then I told him I was coming here. And one thing led to another.”

“Ah.” Zuko nods. “Is it serious?”

“Don’t know yet.” Sokka grins. He has that twinkle in his eyes and Zuko knows he’s in for a long one-sided conversation filled with longing sighs and wax poeticisms that leave his head spinning.

Zuko puts on the front of supportive best friend who likes hearing about Sokka’s love life. He thinks he’s pulling it off quite well if he does say so himself. Maybe the twelve years of politicking has finally given him a believable enough public façade.

“What are you doing with your face,” Sokka stops mid-story to ask.

“Uh…” He blinks. “What?”

“You just—” Sokka waves at his face. “—got kind of frozen a little.”

“Oh?” _Great idea, Zuko. Play dumb. That won’t make you look like a fool,_ he scolds himself. “Just got lost in though. Have something on my mind.”

“Just tell me if the sordid tales of my personal life bores you.” Sokka pokes him in the ribs three times in quick succession making him yelp and wiggle away. He told Sokka he was ticklish one time and now the man uses against him whenever he wants. “The Fire Lord is above all the mundane lives of peasants? Are you not one with the people?”

Zuko bats Sokka’s wiggling fingers away while laughing. “Stop! I was listening I swear! Something about sweaty arms or pierced something or whatever! Don’t—ack!”

He pins one of Sokka’s wrists and retaliates by brushing his fingers on the other man’s waist. Sokka twists and tries to avoid it but it’s inevitable. Suddenly, they’re teenagers again one-upping each other in the silliest of ways. They fall gracelessly out of their chairs laughing and breathless on the floor.

Sokka laugh escapes in short bursts, stopping suddenly and then roaring back. Zuko laughs so hard he start to cough which makes him laugh even more. He puts a hand to his mouth to stifle noise.

“Hey,” Sokka says still smiling, dimples showing.

“What's up?” Zuko replies.

“I got you something.” Sokka reaches for his pockets and Zuko feels like his heart is in his throat. The ambassador produces a small round pendant with a crudely carved turtle duck at the center, hanging from a thin delicate chain.

“When I went to the Earth Kingdom, I tried my hand at jewelry making,” he explains. “I thought it’d be good practice, you know? Anyway, this was one of the first things I made.”

Sokka grabs his hand and drops it on his open palm. Zuko is speechless. He stares at the simple trinket and looks at Sokka all doe-eyed and shy.

Zuko commits this moment to memory, files it away amongst all the other similar moments where his control desperately wants to slip.

Instead of doing something stupid, he closes his hand over the pendant and says, “Thanks. I love it.”

“No problem.” Sokka grins. “Now, what did you get _me_?”

Reality sinks in and Zuko gets his bearings back again. Oh right. That.

He and Sokka have taken to doing this thing where they give each other a token whenever they see each other. It started out as a joke. Zuko gifted Sokka a calligraphy set for no reason than because he thought the other man would like it, and a newly minted Ambassador Sokka joked about bribes and buying his affection and duly found a gift to give him in return. It’s an inside joke. A decade long inside joke. Years’ worth of trinkets lining his bedroom shelves. Nothing more than a friendly tradition.

“I’ll give yours to you later,” he says.

“It better be good.” Sokka stands up and reaches out a hand to help him up too. “Mine has all heart. You can’t impress me with your expensive luxury goods.”

“Okay, I’ll exchange the antique shield I got for you and give you something more… homemade.” Zuko smirks. “I'll make you a pot. Would you like that?”

Sokka shoves at his shoulder. “Nice to know you’re still a jerkbender.”

"You know it."

They continue to catch up in between bites and bouts of nostalgia. And it’s nice.

Being in love with Sokka is great all things considered. They’re friends so he gets to enjoy the proximity, but he also suffers through the suffocating closeness of their friendship. It helps that Sokka is away from him half the year because then he could pine safely without choking.

Playing best friend and hopeless admirer requires a lot of effort. He needs to be close but not too close. Be there but not all the time. Look at him just at the right moments to let Sokka know he cares for him but not for too long or else the yearning in his eyes will shine through giving the whole game away.

Zuko is on a tightrope and he’s got the best balancing act in town.

Or so he likes to think.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Every time Sokka, Katara, Aang or Toph visit the palace in their official capacity there is an evening banquet to formally welcome them to the country. It’s one of the necessary evils of diplomacy. He reminds himself that Sokka is here to help recover Southern Water Tribe history during the lost years of the war—he’s not here for a fun vacation with his best friend.

At the banquet, Zuko is immediately trapped in a conversation between his financial advisor, a general’s daughter, and one of the richest men in Caldera. They are talking about the pros and cons of various business ventures and all while Zuko wonders how big of a social faux pas would it be to just jump off the nearest balcony. Personally, he doesn’t think it would be a big deal but he’s pretty sure his press advisor would kill him.

“What do you think Fire Lord Zuko?” the general’s daughter, asks.

“Um.” He sips his drink to buy him some time. “If I may be frank, I’ve got absolutely no mind for business. It’s why I value all of your counsel so.”

That gets the little group to crack a smile and, more importantly, get the attention off him. If there’s one thing Zuko has learned in all his years as Fire Lord, it’s that flattery works all the time. The conversation continues and he hums and nods at the right moments.

Zuko’s eyes wander to the other end of the room where Sokka is currently beguiling a crowd. The ambassador is surrounded by an adoring a throng of diplomats, noble people, and such important figures—all of which have been expertly wrapped around his finger. The ambassador delivers a punchline to a joke and they roar with laughter. It’s incredible how comfortable the man is being the center of attention. Something he’s always admired and envied. Sokka is a beacon, an absolute shining star, it’s no surprise people flock to him.

A woman wearing intricate jewels and a sultry smile touches Sokka’s arm and he gives her a wink. Zuko looks away and asks a server to refill his glass.

The awful thing about being in love with Sokka is that everyone else loves him too. With his easy smiles, brilliant mind, and kind heart, only a fool wouldn’t fall in love with him. And unfortunately for Zuko, fools are harder and harder to come by these days.

Sokka is spoilt for choice. A scarred man—literally and figuratively— with a not-so-pleasant personality, and the world on his shoulders wouldn’t even be in the running. And really, Zuko thinks he prefers it this way because what would he do with himself if Sokka felt even an ounce of what Zuko did for him? He’d only ruin what they already have. He doesn’t believe the universe would ever be kind enough to give him everything he wants and let him keep it.

The evening continues on and Zuko gets jittery. He needs a place to think which is how Sokka finds him hiding behind an ornate curtain eating a cream-filled pastry.

“Hey,” he says.

“You look cozy,” Sokka comments as he joins him behind the drapery.

“Sometimes these things are just too much for me.” Zuko offers up half of his cream puff and Sokka takes it without question.

“Yeah.” Sokka pops the pastry in his mouth. “Rubbing elbows with the elites can be pretty draining.”

“You seem to be having fun.”

Sokka shrugs. “It’s more fun with you.”

At his core, Zuko is a weak man. It only takes a few words and he finds himself falling again.

The rest of the banquet blur together after Sokka drags him by the arm and makes Zuko participate in his reenactment of the time they accidentally angered a hoard of wild boars to the adoring crowd. who laughs, cheers, and gasps at all the right moments.

The party finally winds down as the night draws to a close. Sokka and Zuko are the first ones to leave much to the disappointment of the partygoers. After them, the rest of the guests make their exit as well. Sokka and Zuko walk back to the residential part of the palace in a comfortable silence.

"You didn't have to leave early because of me," Zuko says.

"Like I said, those dinners are way more fun with you." Sokka shrugs, hands in his pockets.

They reach the part of the hall where they need to part ways.

“I’ll see you tomorrow." Sokka gives him a sideway hug before he leaves.

“Good night.” Zuko watches Sokka’s retreating figure get swallowed by the darkness at the end of the hall.

That night Zuko sleeps alone and dreams of something unattainable, someone unreachable yet only a few rooms away.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The first meeting of the day is tedious at best and rage-inducing at worst. Apparently two chair members at the Fire Nation History Preservation Organization had very different ideas of what the organization was created for. So, after Zuko set them straight that the FNHPO is there to make sure the history in their textbooks and what the citizens know is whole truth. His country would do well in learning from the mistakes of their past.

The FNHPO representative who previously thought History Preservation was about them preserving the glorious history of the Fire Nation and its achievements is currently grumbling and making passive aggressive comments about freedom and so forth. Zuko has stopped paying attention.

“This is your every day, huh?” Sokka leans in to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Zuko says under his breath.

And what Sokka doesn’t need to know is that his mere presence makes meetings like these more tolerable—even enjoyable. He doesn’t need to know that there’s nothing Zuko wants more than to be at his side wherever he goes.

An hour passes and they’ve finally gotten everyone on the same page. The FNHPO is going to help them find out what happened to the countless of Southern Water Tribe political prisoners and give any Southern Water Tribe artifacts back to their rightful owners.

They’re talking about logistics, which archives to go to, and how long all of it will take when Sokka passes him a note under the table like they’re kids at school not world leaders deciding what will go down in history books. The note says:

_Why did the banana go to the doctor?_

Zuko scribbles out a ‘ _why?_ ’ and passes it back.

Sokka taps Zuko’s thigh with the reply.

Zuko bites his lip pretending that he is still very interested in what his advisors are telling him. He sneaks a glance at the note Sokka pressed into his lap. ‘ _Because it wasn’t peeling well’_ , it says. And Zuko tries very hard to turn his ugly snort into a believable cough.

“Are you okay, Fire Lord Zuko?” Yen, his assistant asks.

“I’m fine just… ahh… something in my throat.” Zuko grabs the water and drinks.

Sokka is next to him feigning concern, the only thing giving him away is the mirth in his eyes. The lovable bastard.

The meeting drones on and Zuko wonders if it’s been two hours or a whole day. Sokka isn’t doing any better if the way his knee keeps bouncing is any indicator.

“The trek to the hidden mountain archives will take about three days,” the FNHPO representative says. “We can leave now if you’d prefer, we’ve prepared the coaches and all the supplies with us.”

“Now?” Zuko sits up straight. “Yen, what does my schedule look like for the week?”

Yen looks panicked for a second before Sokka interjects.

“I can go with you by myself. It’ll eat up my whole trip here but what can you do,” Sokka shrugs. He turns to Zuko. “Don’t worry, I can handle a couple of dusty Fire Nation war archives in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’ll have the best guides around, Ambassador Sokka,” the other FNHPO representative assures him.

Zuko doesn’t have a good enough reason to shirk his responsibilities to join Sokka for this one so he concedes, and hopes no one can tell how disappointed he is.

After only an hour and a half, Sokka has packed a bag is ready to leave. Zuko goes to the palace gates to see Sokka off.

“I’m going to be back in a couple of months for your crowning anniversary anyway,” Sokka tells him. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“As if,” Zuko says.

Sokka laughs and gets into the coach. He waves goodbye and the coach hurries away.

Zuko is in love with Sokka. It’s as simple and painful as that. And it’s never been a problem before until he feels a tickle in his throat and a single petal falls from his lips.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The petals fall rarely enough at first that they become easy to ignore and pushed to the very back of his mind. Something to worry about some other day.

The coughing starts as unassuming as the first one too. Just an irritating tickle at the back of his throat. A simple cough and the tiny, thin papery cup-shaped purple petal dislodges itself from his throat. Zuko covers his mouth, pockets the stray petal and moves on.

He’s curious though, extremely so.

In the comfort of his room, Zuko pieces together the purple petals he’s coughed up since the beginning. Just one every day. He’s gotten twelve so far. There is a shame that claws at Zuko’s chest as he arranges the wilting petals into a circle on his desk, a shadow of a flower. It looks achingly familiar. It’s a mystery he’s too scared to explore. He’s certain of one thing though, the source of these flowers, whatever they maybe, fills him with an unexplainable dread.

Zuko is in the eye of the storm. He feels the static in the air. He knows that when the lightning comes it’ll strike him down.

A knock startles him out of his reverie.

“Nephew,” Uncle says through the door. “May I have a word?”

“Come in.” Zuko hurries to sweep the flowers off his desk.

Uncle closes the door behind him but doesn’t step further into the room.

“What’s the matter, Uncle?”

“I’ve seen the petals, Zuko.” Iroh fixes him with a grave look. It sends chills up Zuko’s spine.

“So, you have.” Zuko tamps down the urge to flee. He feels trapped, and on the verge of something big. He knows not to ask. “You know what they mean.”

Iroh nods as he avoids meeting his gaze. “I do.”

“Is it a curse?” Breathless anticipation wracks Zuko’s very being. “Am I cursed?”

“Somewhat.” Iroh crosses his arms and holds his chin deep in thought. “It is said to be in any case.”

“I don’t have time for your ambiguity, Uncle!” Zuko snaps. “Tell me what's happening to me?”

“It’s called Hanahaki.” Iroh walks to him in slow and measured as he continues, “It happens to victims of unrequited love. As the feelings stay one-sided, you’ll cough out more and more flowers. It will get worse.”

“Ah.” Is all Zuko could think to say.

So, that’s it. Unrequited love. He wants to laugh and cry and throw furniture and yell and sob and giggle like a maniac. It isn’t enough that his love is one-sided, that he only gets to love from afar and watch as the person who owns his heart unknowingly yet callously throws it aside. It isn’t enough to bear the burden of this love on his own.

The universe saw it fit to punish him even more.

“What else?”

“My memory of it… is hazy.” Iroh shakes his head sadly. “I could recognize the disease; I remember the symptoms but the knowledge of Hanahaki escapes me.”

“Is there a cure?” his voice shakes with fear.

“There is.” Iroh’s eyes are fixed on a spot on the floor. “There are experts here under the employ of the crown. They can operate on you and take the flower out. It will be quick and painless. You won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Zuko really considers his uncle for the first time since he’s arrived in his room. He takes in the slumped shoulders, and the grim lines on his face. Here, his uncle truly looks burdened by the decades of his experience.

“But there’s a cost,” Iroh says. “There’s always a cost.”

“What?”

Iroh meets his eyes then and Zuko sees an abyss. Endless sadness. “You’ll lose the one you love most.”

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko finds himself at the same dark temple he went to twelve years ago when he was a lost boy looking for answers. And here he is again even more adrift. _Some things never change_ , he supposes.

This time around, he doesn't have to sneak around. He walks confidently to the middle of the courtyard where the familiar medallion fashioned in the shape of a flower resides. The Fire Sages watch him from the side with curious stares, but they won’t ever bring their queries to him. They value his privacy too much. He reaches the medallion and brings a hand up to it. He bends a blast of fire into the center of the flower. The medallion opens into a secret passage, revealing a spiral staircase that leads to the secret chamber.

He hasn’t been here in years, but it’s exactly as he remembers it. The torches line the walls that lead to an ornate door with a metal sculpture of Fire Lord Sozin with the Fire Nation emblem embedded on its chest. He places a hand over the symbol and bends a fire blast straight into it. The fire fills the door, the excess coming out of the statue’s eyes, nose, and mouth in the most sinister of ways. The door opens but Zuko is determined. He uses both hands to blast more fire into the statue, the flames reach the ceiling, and Fire Lord Sozin starts to melt. He doesn’t stop until the statue turns into a disfigured molten metal heap.

He’s forgotten what it felt like to truly be angry.

Zuko stops just as the statue crumbles into itself. The door will be impossible to close now, but at least Fire Lord Sozin looks unrecognizable.

He grabs a torch from the wall and enters the room. He searches through countless of scrolls and shelves and trunks and even more trunks, shelves, and scrolls filled with artifacts and other important historical items. Important but not what he's after. It’s got to be in here somewhere.

At the far corner of the room, he stumbles upon a portrait of a young Iroh holding baby Lu Ten and beside them is what Zuko assumes to be Lu Ten’s mother. He’s never actually seen her before. She has no portraits in the palace, no belongings preserved behind glass boxes. Zuko doesn’t even know her name. Beneath the family portrait is a sealed box, old and covered in dust.

Kneeling down, he unclasps the latches on the box and steels himself on what he might find. The box has three things: a small, framed portrait of Iroh’s wife, young beautiful and smiling brightly, a leather-bound book filled with mismatched pages, and a clear jar containing a single blood-red gumamela flower, its wide petals and style completely intact. This is what Zuko has been looking for.

Zuko hurries to flip open the book and its filled with facts and information on Hanahaki. He recognizes Uncle's neat handwriting so Iroh must have written this book himself. Or at least compiled the information. He thumbs through the pages, patient’s medical notes, letters addressed to a woman with the initial _M_ , and countless of medical research.

He goes to the final page to see what his uncle has found in his quest to understand Hanahaki.

**_Excerpt from the medical journal Myths and Medicine: Spiritual Maladies and Disease by Dr. Pil Soo_ **

_Hanhaki is a rare and grotesque disease that befalls those under a most pitiful of circumstance. The disease is contracted by those whose love is not returned. Evidence of Hanahaki dates back multiple centuries with the earliest case recorded at a West Air Nomad Temple. Some believe it is a curse from the spirits while other say it is a blessing. According to one healer it proves that it is “a love that’s been touched by the spirits”._

_It has been said by those adhering to a metaphysical and spiritual form of study that a long so pure and strong yet remains unrequited can taint a person’s spirit acting similar to a poison. Contrary to most foreign agents introduced to the system, in cases of Hanahaki, the body accommodates the seed forming in the chest cavity of the patient. The plant will flourish inside the body. As soon as the plant takes root, it will slowly and steadily crawl into the lungs, up to the throat until the plant is ready to sprout flowers. This stage of the disease is painless. Often, patients will not feel the effects of Hanahaki until the patient begins to cough up or vomit petals. As the diseases gets worse, the patient can expel whole flowers. A majority of the patients who have experienced Hanahaki reported severe pain in their throat because of the excess coughing and vomiting, decreased stamina, dizziness, light headedness, loss of appetite, and a variety of other physical and physiological ailments depending on the health of the patient. These negative effects are exacerbated by the serious emotional turmoil the patients are experiencing. The flower varies, as well.  
_

_According to many spiritual elders, the disease wreaks havoc upon the body as the spirit itself breaks and splinters. Many medical examiners have concluded that Hanahaki has both intense physical and psychological effects that negatively affect the patient’s wellbeing._

_Eventually, the flowering plant will spread its roots over the entire chest cavity until it takes hold of the heart and squeezes it to a stop. It is a painful disease that will literally stop a patient’s heart from beating only after they’ve bled their throats raw from coughing up flowers._

_The timeline of the disease varies from patient to patient. Some cases take only two weeks until the seed blossoms into a fully realized flowering plant. Other cases could take months or even up to a year. Even with patients exhibiting various symptoms and different timelines, all the literature surrounding Hanahaki agree on the course of treatments._

_In some cases, the person of the patient’s affection will return their feelings and the Hanahaki plant will, in turn, shrivel up and die. The patient will vomit out the rotten plant and will no longer experience the physical effects of Hanahaki. These cases are incredibly uncommon._

_Other cures for Hanahaki include intervention on behalf of the patient. Some healers found the Hanahaki is cured when the patient’s romantic feelings for the person they love is gone. The roots will shrivel up and will no longer be able to produce flowers. As it rots, pieces of the plant will expel itself from the patient's system._

_The last alternative, as well as the most common treatment plan for this disease is by surgically removing the foreign growth in its entirety from the chest cavity. It is the most effective means to cure a patient from Hanahaki. This method, however, comes with extreme side effects. Patients report loss of romantic feelings towards their enamored and acute targeted amnesia. All cases show that the patient loses all memories pertaining to the person of their affection. Success rate for this treatment is a hundred percent._

_Because of the disease’s rarity, statistics for the survival rate is merely estimates at best. As of the publishing of this journal, the projected mortality rate of Hanahaki is seventy-two percent. It is significantly high considering all evidence shows it is a completely curable disease. Most who die from Hanahaki choose not to undergo treatment as they opt to lie in wait for the chance that their enamored will return their affections._

_Therefore, I conclude that the most common obstacle healers face when dealing with those afflicted with Hanahaki is hope._

Zuko traces the last sentence with numb fingers over again and again. His ears fill with static as his eyes go blurry with unshed tears. _What a pitiful state_ , he thinks, _for hope to hurt too_.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko walks back to the palace, cloak safely over his head. He doesn’t bring what he found with him; the words are already etched in his mind. He decides to tell no one about his condition. The only people who need to know are him, his uncle, and the doctors when the time comes—but it won’t.

He’s decided on his what he’s going to do, the only course of action that seems plausible. He’s going to fall out of love with Sokka. As always, these things are easier said than done.

A treacherous part of him wants to tell Sokka. Wants to confess and tell him how much he loves him. Put his heart at Sokka’s feet and let him decide whether to pick it up or stomp on it. It’s an idea the terrifies and exhilarates him. This could be an end to the disease or an end to their friendship. If the Hanahaki doesn’t kill him, he knows the end of their friendship will. There are too many possibilities are at play. Too many things he’s scared of.

He coughs out another petal.

He wants to tell Sokka because he's his closest confidant. He's the person Zuko tells everything to. And he wants Sokka to know because maybe he'll feel the same way someday. But how does he say it without burdening Sokka with the reality that this love is hurting him. If Sokka is ever to love him, he wants him to do it on his own accord not because he’s guilted into saving Zuko, not because of some sense of duty, but simply because he loves him too.

Dr. Pil was right. This disease is all about hope. Hope prevents him from moving forward. It’s hope that makes him consider the prospect of having a happily ever after with Sokka. It’s hope that makes him think that maybe letting these feelings go could be a waste of time because maybe Sokka could love him back. But that’s not right is it?

The petals… the flowers… they’re actual physical proof that his love isn’t returned. And he needs to face the reality that it is going to kill him if he doesn't do anything about it.

Zuko closes his eyes and remembers the last alternative. Get the operation and lose Sokka. But he won’t lose him, not really. Just the memories, just the love that’s made a home in his heart.

He doesn’t think he can live with that.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko needs to fall in love with someone else. Preferably, someone who’ll love him back. It’s the only way he can think of that lets him keep his memories intact and get the flowers to stop leeching very life out of him.

Now, for the most pressing issue of all: _how the fuck does he meet someone?_

“What do you mean you’re looking for someone?” Mai asks from his left. She looks up from where her nails are getting done to give him a disbelieving stare.

“You know people,” Zuko says as he gets his hair washed.

“Like to date?” Ty Lee’s voice coming from his right is a little wobbly as the masseuse gets a bit stronghanded with their ministration.

“Yes.”

“Are your advisors on pressuring you to marry again?” Mai drones. “I thought they’d hold off until your thirtieth birthday.”

“No, it’s not that—” Zuko starts to say then decides against it. “Actually, yes. I wanted to get ahead of it all before my advisors start lining up suitable suitors for me. I shudder to think who they deem an appropriate partner for me.”

“So, you’re asking us to play matchmaker for you?” Ty Lee lit up like a lantern. “I love playing matchmaker!”

Mai smiles. “This will be interesting.”

Zuko has never regretted a decision so quickly than he did then. The series of events that followed ranged from perfectly fine to sort of awkward to absolute disasters.

The first one is Mai’s pick. A wonderfully intelligent man from a high society family with awful manners.

“Is the scar real?” the man asks him and Zuko sits through about thirty minutes until he has Yen call a fake emergency to get him out of there.

“I take it that’s a no for you?” Yen says when they’re safely in their carriage.

Zuko groans.

The second is Ty Lee’s choice. A free-spirited woman with a charming wit, lovely laugh, and a secret she didn’t feel the need to tell Ty Lee when she set them up.

“I’m a lesbian,” she tells him apologetically.

Zuko nods. “I see.”

Yen looks up from her newspaper when Zuko enters the carriage. “You didn’t like her?”

“Base incompatibilities.”

“She was a lesbian?”

“Yep.”

The third is Yen’s match. A kind woman with a great taste in literature, wonderful conversationalist, and incredibly attractive. She genuinely laughs at his corny jokes. She’s not intimidated by his position. She abhors the Ember Island Players as much as he does. She was absolutely perfect for him.

Their date ends with him driving her up to her family’s estate.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Zuko.” She kisses him on the cheek.

They bid each other farewell.

Yen opens the partition window at the front of the carriage. “Wasn’t she great?”

“She’s fantastic.”

“Shall I schedule another date?”

Zuko shakes his head. “Just flowers and a thank you note for a nice dinner.”

“What?” Yen’s face falls. “Why? You just said she’s fantastic! And if eavesdropped right, I heard witty banter and that cute rapport shit you see in books!”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“Only when I think you’d need a quick out for something.”

“Oh, so that’s how you do that,” Zuko says. “Nice.”

“Now, why won’t you go on another date with this perfectly perfect woman?!” Yen demands.

Zuko shrugs. “No spark.”

It wasn’t a lie per se. But the main reason he couldn’t be with any of them was painfully clear with every cough he’d try to hide with the sleeve of his robes. With every petal he spits out. With every heaving breath...he is reminded just who his heart belongs to.

Zuko explains his dating woes during lunch with Mai and Ty Lee.

“Maybe you need someone you have history with,” Mai suggests. "I mean every person you've dated started out as someone you've already known."

Zuko clears his throat. “Maybe.”

“Maybe a friend you think could be something more,” Ty Lee supplies.

He gulps down a glass of water to get rid of the itchiness in his throat. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay, Zuko?”

Fuck. It’s starting again. Zuko covers his mouth with a handkerchief. His breathing rattles and he coughs into hand. He grabs the edge of the table with his free hand and tries very hard to control his coughing fit. He jams his fist into his mouth making sure not to let any of the delicate purple petals slip.

“Zuko!” Mai rushes to his side and puts a warm hand on his back.

“I’m fine,” he wheezes when the coughing subsides.

Ty Lee is already on his other side, examining his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he snaps. He stuffs the handkerchief filled with petals in his pocket. “I’m perfectly _fine_.”

Mai and Ty Lee exchange a look.

“If you say so.” Ty Lee looks unconvinced.

“You were saying about someone with history?” Zuko asks hoping they’ll take the subject change without any more questions.

“Yeah,” Mai says. She hasn’t stopped rubbing her hand over his back. “There’s a party my parents are throwing to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Yen should’ve put that in your schedule.”

“She probably did. I don’t check. I just let her shuffle me from place to place.”

“Well, your longtime unresolved sexual tension buddy is going to be there,” she says. “So, maybe you'll save everyone the trouble of having to watch you two dance around each other and resolve it.”

Ty Lee is still silent during the exchange. It unnerves Zuko sometimes how perceptive she could be.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Ty Lee says eventually. “You and Hyun would be great together.”

Zuko nods and wipes his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. He hopes she's right.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Hyun. Gorgeous. Brilliant. Captivating. The son of a philanthropist nobleman and a renowned artist who came from humble beginnings. Hyun is the perfect blend of culture and politics. If Zuko was to ever choose the ideal partner to stand next to him as Fire Lord, it’d be perfect Hyun.

This thing with Hyun has always been about temptation. They would tease each other, flirt, let the tension build until it’s almost tips over but they never take it farther than that. It’s a game. The first one to gives in loses.

Zuko doesn’t care for winning much these days.

He is a man on a mission, and he needs a distraction. Hyun reads him like an open book, and he smiles, all sharp edges and pearly white teeth. Zuko wonders what will happen when he gets too close—he can’t wait to find out.

They orbit each other throughout the party. And when he leaves, Hyun follows. All the way to the palace. In the candlelight of the gardens, they fill the night with conversation.

As the evening stretches on, Zuko leads him to a guest room. As soon as they enter, Hyun pulls him in by the waist and kisses him, hard and desperate, just how Zuko likes it. Hyun's lips could keep him up all night. He gives back as good as he gets, and it feels good. A hand grabbing his hip and the other in his hair. A trail of kisses that leave him shivering.

It’s so easy to get lost in the rhythm of Hyun's hips and the smell of his hair. He thinks about the effortless way he can fall in love with Hyun if not for the flower in his lungs already claiming him for someone else. Hyun kisses him and he can feel are the flower buds blossoming in his chest. Hyun touches him and Zuko is afraid he’ll shatter into tiny little purple petals.

It feels good but not quite right. Hyun moans his name and all Zuko could think of is how another man miles and miles and miles away would sound doing the same. He roves his hands down Hyun’s smooth, perfect body and he wonders how Sokka’s skin littered with scars but still absolutely beautiful would feel under his touch.

Hyun watches him and all his heart does is yearn for blue eyes and a bright smile that rivals the sun.

“I had fun,” Hyun says as he puts his clothes back on.

“I did too.” Zuko smiles at him, it’s bittersweet. A culmination of years of promises they now know neither intended to keep. They both hoped for something more. But sometimes things just aren’t meant to be no matter how hard they want it so.

“At least now we know, right?” Hyun smiles.

Zuko marvels at how easily he can read him in the same breath he laments over why he can’t just fall in love with kind, smart, beautiful, wonderful person. Why does his heart have to crave someone who will never look at him the same? Why does the world have to be so cruel?

“If you ever want to do it again.” Hyun gives him a lingering kiss. “You can call my people.”

Zuko laughs into it. Leave it to ambassadors to be diplomatic about a hook up. “Okay.”

He kisses Hyun a final time and they both understand that it’s goodbye.

Ty Lee sets him up a couple of more blind dates to make up for the last disaster. But Zuko knows it's all in vain. Every date, every prospect ends up exactly the same. Every single one of them, no matter how charming, smart, beautiful or perfect for him. It all ends with the same bitter thought. They’re not Sokka.

No matter how hard he tries, no one can fix the burning hole in his chest. No one can get Sokka out of his mind. His dates are poor substitutes and it’s not fair to anyone to think of them that. He knows going in that they can’t live up to the expectations in his head. They’ll never be Sokka and he hates how much that crushes him.

That night, when he’s finally alone, Zuko takes out the flowers he’s coughed out during the day. He opens his palms and lets the evening breeze carry them away. He imagines them flying across oceans eventually finding their way home.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Even without Sokka’s physical presence, and even before the flowers became an overbearing reminder of the man's absence, the spaces in Zuko’s life has been filled with bits and pieces of Sokka. His room filled with trinkets and gifts Sokka has given him through the years strewn all over the place. Prototypes of inventions Sokka left in Zuko's room. A stack of letters on their permanent spot on his desk and even more in the many drawers.

When he can't sleep, Zuko reads Sokka's letters pretending he could hear the sound of his voice.

_Dear Zuko,_

_Did you know the Bei Fongs, as in Toph’s ancestors, refused to aid in the long-term development of the Southern Water Tribe because of some internal family bullshit? I guess everything is more connected than we thought._

_Or maybe it’s like fate. If you believe in that sort of thing. Aang probably does, he’s into that whole spiritual mumbo jumbo._

_The Earth Kingdom looks exactly as we left it. Which is to say, still pretty green and rocky. Speaking of, Toph took me to an Earth Rumble match and The Boulder said he remembered me. I think we’re friends now._

_I heard you made headway with reintroducing traditional music and dancing into schools. It’s amazing how something so simple can bring people together._

_Oh! And by the way, I saw this intricately crafted dagger (purely decorative although I’m sure you’ll find some deadly use for it) and thought of you. It may or may not be my present to you when I get there._

_Sleep and eat. Remember, Yen keeps me updated if you’re not doing either.  
_

_Take care of yourself._

_Your Bestest Friend in the World,_

_Sokka_

_Dear Zuko,_

_Thanks for the theater ticket offer, but things didn’t really work out with Kai._

_It’s no big deal, that’s why I didn’t tell you sooner. It was just some fun, to be honest, I think I’m ready for something more serious. It feels like the right time for it._

_I heard from the grapevine (Ty Lee told Suki and she told me!) that you’re out into the dangerous world of dating too! I can be your wingman! I’ll be the best wingman in town!_

_Or will be once we’re in the same city again._

_You and me out in the town. Can you imagine? It’s going be great._

_Your Sadly Single Friend,_

_Sokka_

_Dear Zuko,_

_Sorry I haven’t been able to write you back. So many things happening all at once and it’s pretty overwhelming but in a good way. I'll write soon.  
_

_Your Most Handsome and Haggard Ambassador_

_Sokka_

_Dear Zuko,_

_Yen tells me you’ve had a cough that just won’t quit. Have you asked Katara for some medicinal advice? I can track down that old herbalist that lives in the woods with her cat for you if you need._

_Don’t work yourself too hard._

_Your Favorite Diplomat,_

_Sokka_

_Dear Zuko,_

_You’ll see me in a couple of days. Heck, maybe I’ll be there first before you even get this. Anyway, give my best to Mai and Ty Lee._

_I’ll be with you soon._

_Yours,_

_Sokka_

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The flowers keep coming and some days it feels like it’s never going to end.

In his darkest moment, he gathers all the petals from his latest coughing fit, fits it into the palm of his hand, and watches them burn.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Dawn comes much sooner than he expects after a night full of expelling petals. The early rays of sunshine already filtering into his room. Sleep probably would’ve helped clear his head. Maybe next time.

He does his morning routine without thought. He leaves the bed. Washes himself. Puts on the clothes his staff have laid out. Everything comes to him automatically, a routine executed proficiently. He doesn’t even need to look at the mirror when he fixes his hair in the traditional top knot. If he did, he would’ve seen how dark the bags under his eyes have gotten and how pale he looks.

The morning brings with it the first petal of the day too. He coughs it out just before he goes to the long overdue meeting with his economic advisors.

It’s a session about tariffs and Zuko would much rather fight a hoard of moose lions again.

“We can’t just let our domestic steel industry be left vulnerable!” Advisor Ping says with feeling. And he’s right. If Zuko lets the imported steel from the Earth Kingdom be brought in without an increase in tariffs, their domestic steel would take a hit.

Zuko squints at the report in front of him trying hard to make sense of the numbers and keep up with the argument going on at the table at the same time.

“Maintaining regular tariffs on Earth Kingdom steel means cheaper and better-quality steel for other industries,” Advisor Shan Cai interjects. “Our blacksmiths, forgers, construction, manufacturing, and countless others will benefit.” She’s also right. If Zuko lets more imported steel in, other industries will have cheaper alternatives and can export more materials in return.

He rubs at his temples and the argument goes on.

“Not to mention, holding back on raising tariffs will help build bridges with the Earth Kingdom,” Advisor Minho says. “If we don’t raise tariffs on Earth Kingdom steel, they have no reason to raise tariffs on, say, our silks, jewelry, and other exports which are much more lucrative than our domestic steel trade.”

“It’s not just about the steel industry,” Advisor Yang cuts in already irritated and grumpy. “It’s about the real people, our citizens, who will be negatively affected if these steel imports start filling up the market. They can’t compete!”

The problem with meetings like this one is that all his advisors have a point. They’re all prepared with their meticulous research and ten-point arguments about why he should or should not do something. It’s up to Zuko to decide what’s worth it and what isn’t. And it’s on his shoulders if everything blows up into his face and leaves his country in shambles. He bites his lip as he watches the back-and-forth of his advisors growing weary.

As everything devolves into what is a nasty fight in diplomatic standards, all Zuko could think of is how he wants to tell Sokka all about it. He wants to tell him how Advisor Ping looks so red it matches his robes. He wants to tell him about how boring these meetings and wishes that Sokka was here with him because he knows he’ll make it infinitely better. It’s a default at this point, to think of Sokka. When his mind wanders, it finds itself running around thoughts of him. His heart knows that the only place, he wants to be is wherever Sokka is.

He grits his teeth as a flurry of petals threaten to surface. It doesn’t work and he ends up bend over his chair coughing while making sure his advisors don’t see the petals come out of his mouth.

Everyone has stopped talking, all looking at him with varying degrees of concern.

He gives them useless platitudes and they continue with the meeting.

"Don't raise the tariff on common steels but for more specialized ones raise it from somewhere along one to two percent only," Zuko decides. "It'll show our cooperation with internation trade but help our more lucrative steel industries and encourage our local manufacturers to diversify."

His advisors nod their approval and they move on to the next problem.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko wakes up from his sleep struggling to breathe. He claws at his throat as he wrenches up from the bed. He falls to the floor, on his hands and knees as he retches. He throws up on the carpet a flower, mangled and bloody, but in full perfect bloom.

He recognizes the flower now. Even in its disgusting twisted shape, he can recognize it from anywhere. Tear drops mix with the mess on the floor. And Zuko finally lets himself weep.

_Zuko was following Sokka trudging through the snow. He took a deep, steadying breath and produces a short burst of flame from his mouth._

_“Oh, hey!” Sokka yelped when he saw fire in his peripheral. “I didn’t know you were that cold. You said you were fine!”_

_“Because I am,” Zuko shrugged holding his coat tighter to himself._

_“Come here.” Sokka put an arm over his shoulder, pulled him closer. He slowed down the pace, so they were walking in synch. “Better?"_

_Warmth zipped through Zuko’s body. He swallowed before giving out a weak, “Much.”_

_Zuko basked in the closeness, even through layers and layers of warm coats he could feel Sokka’s body heat._

_“Where are we going?” he asked._

_Sokka squeezed his shoulder and Zuko suppressed a shiver. “I’m going to show you something.”_

_“It better worth waking me up so early in the morning and trudging through miles and miles of snow.”_

_“We’ve been walking for five minutes.” Sokka laughed._

_Zuko grinned despite himself. He was getting comfortable in Sokka’s arms and he thought maybe Sokka was getting used to holding him when the arm around his shoulders tightened and they stopped short in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere._

_“Are we lost?”_

_Sokka smiled and said, “We’re exactly where we need to be.”_

_“In the middle of nowhere.”_

_“Hush.” Sokka put a gloved hand over his mouth. “I’m trying to look for something.”_

_Zuko harrumphed but sank into Sokka’s unintentional embrace anyway._

_Sokka removed his hand from Zuko’s mouth and pointed to the horizon. “There!”_

_Suddenly, Sokka was running towards some unknown point and Zuko was scrambling to keep up. Sokka falls to his knees and started sweeping off the snow from the ground._

_“Sokka!” Zuko said as he caught up. He knelt on the ground beside his friend and looked at the ground wondering what secrets it contained that had Sokka so excited. Sokka continued clearing the ground of snow then, from the white powdery expanse—flowers._

_Bright purple dense clusters of small petals forming delicate stars. The wind picked up knocking over his hood and Zuko felt strong arms wrap around him again, protecting him from the cold._

_“You okay?” Sokka whispered in his ear, his warm breath grazing Zuko’s face._

_“Yeah.” Zuko nods._

_Sokka didn’t let go. Instead, he held Zuko closer and got them to a more comfortable position on the cold ground. Zuko was bundled by layers and layers of furs and cloth and now Sokka’s warm body added to the mix._

_“Look over there.” Sokka jut his chin forward then rested it on Zuko’s shoulder._

_Zuko looked at the smattering of purple blooms across their snowy landscape and looked back at Sokka smiling at him._

_“I thought you would appreciate the scenery. They’re called southern arctic blossoms. They only grow during spring,” Sokka explains sheepishly. “Do you like it?”_

_“Yeah,” he said. “I like it a lot.”_

If Zuko had to pinpoint the moment he started falling in love with Sokka, it would be on that snowy morning cold to his bones, but heart warmed from the inside out.

He looks at the purple petals and bloody flowers scattered on the floor and there’s a miserable rage that builds inside wanting to claw its way out. Zuko plants his hands on the floor firmly and lets the anger flow through his fingertips and sets fire to it all. The flames lick the ground and spread outward setting everything in its path ablaze.

Zuko sits in the center of it all as his room is slowly engulfed in flames. Iroh bursts into his quarters before any serious damage could be made and extinguishes the blaze.

“Zuko,” Iroh says his name in the heartbroken way he says Lu Ten’s.

He doesn’t speak. He lets Uncle pull him into an embrace and he closes his eyes as more useless tears fall.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Iroh brings him to one of the many secret rooms of the palace. Apparently, Uncle made this one into a makeshift tearoom. Different kettles and cups, a variety of brews lining the walls. It’s a little piece of paradise.

Zuko sits across Iroh who pours him a jasmine brew. He coughs up a few more purple petals making his already painful throat feel raw. He arranges the petals in a neat line on the table for lack of something to do.

“How did you know about Hanahaki, Uncle?” Zuko asks absentmindedly touching the petals with the tips of his fingers. They’re a part of him now. It’s getting harder and harder to remember a time when he didn’t have them.

“I believe I fell victim to it back in my youth,” Iroh says simply. “I went down to the secret chamber at the temple to retrieve my journal. It jogged some memories. Or perhaps reading my journal helps delude the mind into thinking it remembers.”

Zuko already knows the answer but he can’t help but ask “Who was she?”

Iroh looks down at his hands, flexing them and closing them into loose fists. He sighs, long, deep, and weary. “She was Lu Ten’s mother.”

“Your wife.”

Uncle nods slowly closing his eyes as he tries to piece together fragments of broken memories he could barely grasp.

“It was an arranged marriage,” Iroh explains. “She was a nobleman’s daughter and I’ve adored her my whole life. Azulon knew this and arranged for us to wed. I was ecstatic. Alas...”

“She didn’t feel the same.”

“She was resigned about it all.” Iroh closes his eyes. “She always knew would marry out of obligation. It hurt me that she’d think that, but I was convinced I could make her love me.

“For years, during our marriage I’d try to woo her, and she’d give nothing but a polite smile in return. We were wonderful friends, close confidants, but nothing more. She bore me a child because that was expected of her. We were a family and I’ve never felt so happy. But it wasn't enough.”

“What happened next?”

“The flowers.”

“Oh.”

“I was a naïve young man, nephew.” Iroh smiles but his eyes remain cold, sad. “I held steadfast in my belief that my love would be returned, and she will welcome me with open arms. The day never came, but the flowers kept coming.

“I was bed-ridden, sick, and she was there holding my hand—she couldn’t find it in herself to love me back, but she was there for me as my wife, the mother of my child. I never blamed her for not returning my affections. We cannot control the way we feel.

“And so, my father ordered the operation on my behalf. I was delirious at the time, but I knew I protested because how could I lose her? I loved her so much it felt like losing myself too.

“Fire Lord Azulon thought differently and ordered the doctors to take the flower out. I was heir to the throne and too valuable to lose to such a pitiful disease. I woke up one morning and I’ve felt better than I ever did before. I didn’t even know I was sick until years later… until Lu Ten’s death…”

“Uncle, you don’t have to tell me.”

“But I must,” Iroh says. “You need to know. Lu Ten’s death brought unimaginable grief… Along with his death came some memories, memories of her… it made the heartache so much worse. The mind forgets but the heart can recognize ghosts, and at the time they were everywhere. So much of who we are is made up of who we love. And I loved my wife and only her. At my core, before my son was born, you would have found nothing but the love I had for her.

“It’s like I lost the two most important people in the world at once. I had to grapple with the loss of my son and the loss of someone I couldn’t even remember. I became a shell of myself. Hollow and broken.”

Zuko is at a loss for words. To hold that much anguish inside, to live with it everyday must be torture. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough for that.

“I think I recall her name now…” Iroh stares at a faraway place lost in the haze of memories no longer there.

Zuko waits for his uncle to come out of the fog. It’s both heartbreaking and amazing to see with his own eyes what might soon become of him.

“Minami,” he says with a fondness that cuts through the bone and guts him leaving him bleeding from the heart. “Her name was Minami.”

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Days after the talk with his uncle, Zuko is still left in a daze. He performs his duties as normal, to those outside his circle of confidants, he is every bit the honorable Fire Lord he’s worked so hard to become. But those who know him can tell by the slight tremor in his hands, the almost imperceptible falter in his voice, the lost faraway look in his eye that something is wrong.

Mai sits in one of the council meetings and she watches him like a hawk. She’s always been fiercely protective of him. He knows he'd be lost without her but she can't help him this time. Not with this.

Zuko waves away her concern. Brushing off their questions about his wellbeing and sometimes when the need arises lying straight to their faces. He feels bad about it especially when people he sees their faces shunt into a disappointed frown. But he needs to do it. It’s unfortunate, but a necessity.

Uncle’s words keep ringing in his ears, and they strike cold fear into his very being. A love so fundamental that it changes who you are. Was there a secret part of him that’s exactly like his father… like his sister. A sinister part just waiting by the wings to sink its teeth into his heart and poison his mind. The kind of madness for power that’s ravaged everyone in his lineage.

What if the love he has for Sokka, something pure and uncomplicated, is the only thing stopping him from being the monster the world is just waiting for him to become? What if forgetting this all-consuming love turns him evil? What if the only thing stopping him from being just like his predecessors is this?

What if he’s better off dead than without even a memory of this love?

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko writes to the only person he knows could help him—the Avatar. He writes in quick strokes; his calligraphy is sloppy but he’s not in the right mindset to think about penmanship. He doesn’t tell Aang the full details just enough context to let him know that any advice would help.

He ties the letter to his hawk and sends it off. He doesn’t expect Aang to arrive with Appa after a day of sending said note and whisking him away for a lazy ride around the clouds.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Zuko says lying on Appa’s saddle as they wade through the sky.

“I read your letter,” Aang explains beside him. “You sounded distressed.”

“Are you sure we should be having this conversation on Appa?”

“Appa loves being the venue for heart-to-hearts, don’t you buddy?”

Appa makes an affirmative sound.

“Besides,” Aang says. “Where else would we have it?”

“Fair enough.”

Zuko and Aang sit in the quiet for a moment. Aang waiting patiently for Zuko to build the courage to speak his mind.

“I have Hanahaki,” Zuko blurts out.

“Oh.” Aang processes the information. It’s a lot to unpack from just three words.

Zuko chews his bottom lip. “You know what it is, right?”

“Unrequited love syndrome,” Aang answers. “The Air Nomads believe it’s a disease that’s spiritual by nature. Your soul yearns so deeply for another that it manifests in your physical body.”

Zuko is quiet again.

“I’m not going to ask who it is,” Aang says eventually.

“Because you already know?”

“Would that make you feel better if I did?”

Zuko thinks about it. Maybe someone else sharing his secret would make him feel less alone. Maybe this burden will be lifted off his shoulders. Maybe he'll be a step closer to freedom if Aang knew he was in love with Sokka and that it was killing him. Maybe it's the first step to solving all his problems or it won't. Maybe Aang will just look at him with pity because he knows a hopeless case when he sees one. Zuko is too afraid to find out.

“I don’t know who it is,” Aang reassures him. “Your secret is safe.”

Zuko nods. Another silence befalls them. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of the wind in his air.

“How do I move on?” he asks.

“You accept the fact that they don’t have feelings for you,” Aang answers simply. “You take that feeling in your heart, you cry about it, you can scream and yell. And then, when you’ve let it all out, you gather up all the love you have in you, and you let it go too.”

“Let it go,” he echoes.

Aang gives him an apologetic smile. “That’s what the Air Nomads always thought me. Learning to accepting things you can't change as they are gives you the strength to move forward.”

Zuko lets Aang’s word sink in. _Acceptance_. That’s what beats hope. But the truth is, he’s not ready for hope to die yet.

“You want me to stop hoping that my feelings will be returned,” Zuko breaks the silence.

“Yes.” Aang sighs. “Sometimes you just have to take what you’re given. You accept it for what it is, and you don’t ask for more. It’s hard to let go of hope but sometimes you have to.”

There’s some sick irony about how the beacon of hope and humanity is telling him to let go. But that’s just Zuko’s life. A cosmic joke.

“Thanks.”

Aang drops him off the at palace rooftop just to keep Zuko’s assistant and guards on their toes. Zuko bids him farewell only after Aang turns down his multiple offers to grab a bite at the palace. They’ll see each other again in a month’s time. No time at all.

Zuko sleeps that night still fitfully but with the promise of peace looming in the horizon.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Things get worse. In addition to the coughing and retching, Zuko suffers from lack of sleep, dizziness, loss of appetite. Ty Lee dropped by the palace one day, took one look at him and marched him right to the medical wing of the palace.

Dr. Hye-mi is writing on a clipboard while Zuko sits shirtless and awkward on her examination table. The confidence and competence of Dr. Hye-mi makes her a formidable force and it intimidates Zuko a little.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Dr. Hye-mi starts.

“Please, just Zuko.”

“Zuko,” she amends. “ After the examination, I have to be honest, it’s not good. And you say this has been going on for a couple of months?”

“Yes.”

“And the Hanahaki has reached the stage of full flowers.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you haven’t sought treatment until Ms. Ty Lee forced you to.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you see just how bad things have gotten.”

Zuko looks up at her. “How bad are we talking?”

Dr. Hye-mi hands him a mirror. “Hold this as far away from your chest as you can.”

“Okay.”

She goes behind the table, puts a hand firmly on his back and he feels warmth. Zuko watches in awe as he’s lit up from the inside showing him a shadow of the growing flower in his chest. He almost drops the mirror when he saw it. Across his chest, the roots of the southern arctic blossoms have spread to his lungs, up his throat, and dangerously close to his beating heart.

“We need to remove this immediately. You can’t wait any longer.”

Zuko stares at his chest filled with roots, stems, and vines. There’s no running away now—but when has that ever stopped him?

“I’ll tell you what I decide as soon as I make up my mind.”

Dr. Hye-mi nods but there’s unmistakable worry in her eyes. She can’t save someone who’s still unwilling to be saved.

Zuko leaves the medical wing and goes about his day business as usual.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Against his best wishes, the days continue to turn into night and the night into day and over and over until the coronation anniversary is a week away. Yen has been up to her ears with planning everything for the week-long celebration. He wishes he didn’t dump everything on her, but he doesn’t have the energy to do anything other than half-heartedly listen to advisory sessions and read over reports.

At this point, Zuko has taken to burning the arctic blossoms as they go up his throat when he still has the energy to do so. He’s become nauseated with their fragrant smell. But he can't find it in himself to grow sick of the dainty purple petals.

He realizes that maybe this love is too strong to walk away from.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The gang arrives at the palace three days earlier than they were supposed to. Appa lands with a silent roar and Aang, Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki descend upon the Fire Nation Palace demanding to see the Fire Lord.

Zuko is reviewing proposals when he hears a familiar yell from the courtyard.

“Take us to your leader!” Sokka demands at the many windows of the palace.

“I think your friends are here, Lord Zuko,” Yen helpfully supplies. “I’ll have the palace staff prepare the rooms and take care of their belongings.”

Zuko is frozen at his desk, hands gripping the side of the table as he tries to control his breathing.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’ll greet them myself. Just give me a moment. Can you tell someone at the kitchens to make something, please?”

“Alright.” Yen looks at him in that calculating way of her before she leaves.

She closes the door, and he lets out a sigh. He closes his eyes— he needs to focus.

His breath of fire. Reaching out deep in his gut and slowly moving upward scorching whatever stands in its way. He coughs out bitter ash.

He takes a deep, cleansing breath. He opens his eyes as he steels himself for what’s coming next. His heart gives a little mighty lurch and despite himself, he feels absolutely giddy.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko comes out of the palace and is immediately mobbed by an overly enthusiastic Toph hugging him by the waist then hoisting him up. The rest of the group is helping the staff load their luggage to the wagon to be carted off to their rooms. Toph brought no luggage whatsoever.

“Sparky!” Toph squeezes him tight.

“Nice to see you too, Toph.” He awkwardly pats her head.

Toph shakes him a little and tuts, “You’ve lost weight, Sparky. Are they not feeding you in this joint?”

Zuko struggles a little in Toph’s grip just to show his displeasure but not actually doing anything to remove himself.

“The finest meats and wine,” he drones. “If you put me down, you too can eat like a king.”

They share a laugh and Toph finally sets him on his feet.

Aang hugs him next, then Katara, then Suki. Zuko smile as he lets himself be passed around from person to person. He hasn’t realized how terribly he’s missed all of them. But now that they’re here his spirits are up and he feels wonderfully whole.

Sokka pulls him into a hug last. He comes in so close that their nose brush, and Zuko’s heart stutters to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asks frozen in fear and something he refuses to name.

Sokka sniffs the air a little and says, “You smell nice.”

“Uh, thanks…”

“Like flowers.” Sokka pulls away a bit leaving Zuko wide-eyed and dizzy. “It kind of reminds me of spring.”

 _Of course, it does_ , Zuko thinks a bit hysterical, a bit bitter. He didn’t think his heart could get anymore broken, but loving Sokka is just full of surprises. He extracts himself from Sokka’s embrace to put some distance between them.

“Let’s get you all inside,” he addresses everyone.

Yen has so kindly cleared his schedule for the day and the next so he can enjoy some time with his friends. When news broke that Team Avatar was in palace grounds, Mai and Ty Lee rushed over to the palace too.

Around the small kitchen table, they swap stories of new adventures and exchange fond memories. He can remember the first time they were here, clear as day, just after his coronation. They sat around the same table— all so terribly young.

As always, he’s sitting next to Sokka, their thighs are touching and it’s hard to move his arm without pressing their sides together. He tries to focus on how Mai and Suki are discussing the effectiveness of knives versus sharpened fans and how they can be combined. Or keep up with Katara, Ty Lee, and Aang’s conversation about chi and chakras. But Sokka finds a way to pull him back in.

Zuko stifles a cough before it becomes a fit and downs a whole glass of water.

“Are you okay?” Katara asks.

“I’m fine,” he assures quickly. “Just… I don’t know, I’ve caught a bug or something.”

“Oh, speaking of. I found the herbalist I was telling your about, when I went to the Earth Kingdom. I know you said not to but I was there anyway,” Sokka is saying. “She didn’t tell me her name, but she talked about her cat non-stop.”

“Okay?” Zuko blinks at him.

“What I’m saying is I got you some herbs to deal with that cough.” Sokka rubs his back soothingly. Zuko doesn’t think he’s even aware of what he’s doing. “I’ll bring them to you later.”

“Thanks.”

It’s the kindness. Zuko has always been and always will be a sucker for the gentle ones.

There’s never a better feeling than when the gang is back together. Zuko let the lightness of the moment carry him into the evening. The flowers never bothering him once. He falls asleep with a smile on his face and a pouch filled with precious herbs clutched in his hand.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko wakes up well-rested for the first time in months since the flowers started growing. It’s probably got something to do with the fact that Sokka is only a few doors away. There’s nothing Zuko wants more than to knock on his door and just be with him. Stay in his room and talk or watch him sleep or anything that gets him alone and in his presence.

And the worst part about it is that Zuko knows he can do that. He can walk up to Sokka’s room and he’d be welcome with open albeit sleepy arms. But what he wants and what Sokka can give are two very different things. Zuko wants everything and Sokka can only give so much.

He burns a flower just as it works its way through his throat, spraying ash everywhere. He thinks he's grown to like the bitter taste of ash than the fragrant smell of those wretched, beautiful purple flowers. He decides to go to the sunroom and meditate. This is how he prepares for his days now, filled with coughing fits and headaches. The early morning sun helps keep his energy up and the meditation clears his head.

Zuko reaches the sunroom, a spacious room fitted with glass walls and ceilings. He sits on the mat right at the center where the sun’s rays are most intense. Closing his eyes, he lets the power of the sun do its work.

He can feel it now, every root crawling under his skin, lighting up with veins, making a home out of his pathetic heart. He focuses on the warmth of his inner flame. The breath of fire is a fickle thing. Use it the wrong way, lose control, and it will burn from the inside out. He utilizes every ounce of his control to singe the blooming flowers crawling up his esophagus and burns them to an ashy mess.

He takes a deep breath and exhales what remains of the flowers into a cloud of fire, smoke, and ash.

“Wow,” says Sokka’s voice appearing out of nowhere.

Zuko opens his eyes to see his friend learning casually by the doorway, his arms crossed which strain the muscles in his biceps just right, smiling like he has no worries in the world.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“Just figured it out myself.” He shrugs.

“Well, if you’re done channeling your inner Aang, we should have breakfast.”

So, they leave the sunroom and head to the kitchens. If Sokka notices the smell of burnt flowers, he doesn’t mention it. Zuko doesn’t know if he should be relieved or hurt.

The torn between to opposing ideals is an ongoing theme with Zuko whenever Sokka is concerned. Zuko feels infinitely better and incredibly worse with Sokka just a few steps within reach. It’s like looking at something precious in a glass case. Close to the touch but ultimately impossible to feel. It’s torture—but the best kind. A sweet torment and he relishes in the agony.

Zuko never realized he is such a masochist. Love truly brings out different sides to a person to reveal who they really are.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Yen is a great assistant but she’s not a miracle worker, which is why Zuko can’t go with the rest of the gang when they decided to use their extra free time to explore the city. He waves at them from his office window as they set off for the day. He thought days of his sighing from the windowsill as he longing gazes off into the horizon ended in his teens. The day goes by in another exhausting blur.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The sunsets and the gang comes back from their trip missing someone. Zuko doesn’t ask, he already knows where Sokka went off. Their little incomplete group get dinner together catching Zuko up on what happened when they explored Caldera City.

They all retire to bed with the excitement of tomorrow’s coronation anniversary. Zuko still can’t believe it’s been twelve years. He is walking back to his quarters when Uncle approaches him.

“You look tired, nephew,” Iroh

“I am,” he admits. “I’m so tired.”

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Iroh fires up his miniature burner and sets a small kettle on top of it. He’s placed two teacups and a handful of food on Zuko’s table, as well.

“Uncle, I want to go to bed.”

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” Iroh says innocently. “I want to make sure you’re alright considering the circumstances.”

“You know who it is.” Zuko looks at his hands. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’ve been very discrete,” Iroh reassures him. “But who else could it be?”

Zuko smiles sadly. _Who else, indeed_. “Are you here to convince me that it’s hopeless?”

“I’m here to ask what your plan is." Iroh doesn’t often get stern with him but it’s a necessity. “I have been sitting idly by as you waste away and I can’t stand one more moment of it.”

“I’ve been waiting it out.”

“You’re trying to get over your feelings?"

Zuko bites his lip and nods. He doesn’t trust himself to talk. He knows his voice will crack and it will only be followed by either petals or tears or both. He’s been trying for months. It needs to work.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Iroh’s eyes are guarded.

“You don’t think I can do it.”

Iroh doesn’t answer. The silence between them stretches growing longer and longer as the seconds pass by.

“What are you so scared of?” Iroh asks, eventually.

Zuko tries to focus his anxieties and fears, distill it into a single thought.

“What if I lose myself like you did?” he chokes out. “I don’t want to… what if I wake up and I don’t—What if loving him is all I am like Minami was to you?”

Iroh puts a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, my dear nephew, you’ve always been a much better man than I. This will not destroy you.”

His uncle has never lost faith in him and Zuko has never had a reason to doubt.

Zuko lets the tears fall freely. A hacking cough wracks his body, and he spits out one… five… ten… petals each one stained with blood.

"You can love him," Iroh says. "But don't die for him."

"Does forgetting make it better?"

Iroh sets his eyes on the horizon, trying to recall the feeling of loving so much it spills out of your soul and into a bloody mess. His memory is cloudy and faded. He gets a wisp of dark hair and brown eyes, but they're shadows that go as quickly as they came, leaving him to chase nothing but air. "Forgetting let's you go on."

"Is it worth it... in the end?" Zuko wonders if you can regret something you've already forgotten about. If you could long for a ghost, yearn for someone you don't even remember.

Uncle smiles, then. It's a bittersweet smile that holds a sadness both foreign and familiar.

"I’d like to think so."

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The ceremony for the twelfth anniversary of Zuko’s coronation and the end of the war is a week-long affair culminating in, in Toph’s words, _a giant shindig_ at the palace. And it is the biggest part of the year. Unlike the usual banquets the palace throws, the coronation anniversary is lively. There’s music, dancing, food, laughter. People from all over the four nations come not only to pay their respects but to enjoy themselves.

Zuko decided long ago that his coronation anniversary is about people from all walks of life coming together so the gala at the festival’s last night will be open for everyone. It’s a welcome reprieve from all the strict formality that rules the lives of many nobles and politicians. And a wonderful time for all.

It’s in the middle of the part— as everyone dances and chats among themselves— that Zuko decides to do something reckless. Something that will either hurt him or make everything better. He finds Sokka surrounded by yet another adoring crowd.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he whispers to him.

“Sure,” Sokka says gamely. He says goodbye the group that’s gathered around him and follows Zuko out of the party.

“Where are we going?” Sokka asks.

“I’m going to show you something,” Zuko answers as they exit the main building, the noise of the party already sounding far away.

“It better be worth leaving just when they were just bringing out the sparkling wine.”

Zuko laughs, the rings out into the quiet night. Sokka smiles.

It all feels so familiar.

Zuko brings Sokka to his favorite place in the palace. It’s a hidden spot only him and the gardener knows filled with the most beautiful summer wisterias. The flowers are suspended under tall, wide archways, one after the other, like frozen raindrops made of precious purple, white, and pink petals.

“ _Secret tunnel through the mountains_ ,” Sokka sings then snickers. “Like that song, you know about lovers.”

“Yeah.” Zuko doesn't know if it's his heart in his throat or the petals.

“This place is so romantic," Sokka sighs wistfully.

“It is.”

The night is quiet, serene, and incredibly beautiful. He looks at Sokka admiring the petals under the moonlit sky and it all takes his breath away. The flowers growing in his chest constrict and Zuko suppresses a cough, bites his tongue so hard blood starts to fill his mouth.

Sokka turns to him, finally, and asks “Is it okay if I bring someone here?”

Zuko swallows, an iron taste still lingering in his mouth when he answers, “Of course.”

Sokka beams, bright, blinding, magnificent. Zuko feels another flower bud bloom, this time right next to his still beating heart.

The walk back to the palace is a haze but Zuko is experiencing absolute, painful clarity. He decides that he will not die from this. This love is a lost cause. He’ll take it out of its misery. _Hope_ , he recalls Dr. Soo’s findings, _is an obstacle to be overcome._

It’s here—with the love of his life under the waning moon and falling wisteria blooms—Zuko abandons all hope.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko is in a strange state of living. Both knowing and not knowing. Living and drifting. He thinks the only thing keeping him grounded to earth is the pain in his throat and the tightness in his chest.

His breathing rattles and all the symptoms have gotten worse. He can’t train like he used to without hacking out a lung, spitting blood and petals everywhere. He can feel the ever-present headache in his temples as soon as he wakes up. He feels tired all the time in addition to the weary heartbreak that’s become an integral part of who he is.

It’s only a matter of time before the Hanhaki devours him whole. He sends a note to the healers. He’ll do the surgery but give him a month. That’s all the time he needs. A month to let the love of his life go. He can do it.

He lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling, letting violent coughs wrack his body. He heaves and sometimes he vomits, a mix of blood, bile, and disgusting, beautiful, mangled arctic blossoms. _This is what he gets_ , he thinks when his body has a reprieve from the deluge. _This is what he gets for trying to prevent the inevitable._

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The next morning, Zuko sees Sokka off again like he always does. They’re standing at the gates waiting for the carriage to be ready. Sokka keeps looking at him, worry etched on every line of his beautiful face.

“What?” Zuko croaks out. He can’t muster up the energy to be annoyed.

“You don’t look well,” Sokka says.

He shrugs. “Didn't sleep well last night.” Then, there’s that familiar tickle in his throat and he’s coughing into his sleeve, loud and wet.

“Zuko!” Sokka rushes over to him. Zuko quickly turns his back and holds a hand up so he doesn’t get closer.

The coughing subsides and Zuko traps the petals between his teeth. Sokka approaches him slowly and Zuko just stands there, already feeling worn out. 

Sokka holds Zuko’s face gently with both hands. “Look at me.”

Zuko can do nothing but obey. He meets Sokka’s eyes with his own tired ones. He tries hard to memorize the exact color of Sokka’s eyes under the hot summer sun, he wants to trace the shape of them with his hands, his lips. He doesn’t want to ever forget the feeling of the other man’s thumbs brushing delicately against his bruised eyes. He wants to be closer than this, he wants, he wants, he wants.

But he can’t have it. So, grinds the petals between his molars and swallows them whole.

“You’re working yourself to the bone,” Sokka says, quiet and soft almost like a whisper. “I’m worried about you, Zuko.”

He commits to memory the way Sokka says his name. The way Sokka’s calloused palms feel on his as he removes them off his face. The way he smells. The way all of him makes Zuko feel like he could fly and like he’s drowning at the same time.

“I’ll be fine,” Zuko says. “I promise.”

Zuko watches as Sokka’s carriage disappears into the horizon. He waits by the gates... not once does Sokka look back.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

In his borrowed time, Zuko decides to write about Sokka. Every night once he’s done dragging himself through every second of every excruciating day. He goes to his desk and puts into paper the love that overflows from his heart and past his bloody lips.

He writes about how they met. He writes down exactly what Sokka means to him. He writes about how to act every time Sokka looks at him. He tells his future self to treat Sokka just like every other friend (even though he isn’t). He writes about every adventure they’ve had together. He writes about all the inside jokes he can remember in his half-delirious state. He writes about the things he should know about Sokka so not to arouse suspicion. He writes long-detailed notes, stories, everything he remembers and commits them to paper.

He writes and writes and writes until the sun comes up or until his coughing fits grew too strong and he couldn’t hold his pen any longer and has to retire to bed. Then, hefaces the the day all over again.

His last note sits atop his desk, waiting for the ink to dry.

_To my future self,_

_When the worst of the Hanahaki ravaged my body, I wondered how people survived this and I finally know the answer. They don't._

_You die along with the wilting flowers and you a reborn with a missing piece._

_I'd rather suffer for this love than forget it. But the thing is: I want to live too. I want to be there for him when he needs me. Be a shoulder to cry on. Be a hand to hold. Uncle, was right. I’d like to believe uncle was right. I’m bigger than this love. I have to be._

_I’m much better use living, don’t you think?_

_So, I'll let this piece of me die so I can wake up tomorrow and we can see each other again._

_It is my only reprieve._

_Let's see if we have better luck next time._

_\- Z_

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Lightning finally strikes two weeks before the surgery. It hits him when he least expects it. He’s coming out of a meeting when his chest seizes, his heart fights to continue beating. The flowers are trying to come out of his mouth all at once, but all he feels rushing from his lips is blood.

It registers dimly in his mind as he starts to black out that’s he choking.

His surroundings change quickly. He thinks he hears someone scream for help before he everything goes black.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

The emergency surgery takes eighteen hours and the healers weren’t sure if Zuko was even going to make it. Dr. Hye-mi isshocked by the state of the Fire Lord’s Hanahaki as it was already closing in on the heart. Piece by piece they removed the arctic blossoms, extracting each one cluster down to its roots.

The main clump of purple flowers is the hardest to remove, but slowly they were able to separate it from its entanglement. The southern arctic blossoms are in perfect bloom. She puts it carefully in a basin to wash off the blood then transfers it to a crystal-clear glass jar.

❀❁❃❦❀❁❃

Zuko wakes up. Drowsy still from the medication, but alert enough. There is no heaviness in chest. No soreness in his throat. He doesn’t understand why that’s important. The drugs are kicking in again and his eyes feel heavy.

Before sleep takes him again he notes that he feels _free_.

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats! You finished part 1. If you want to reach me, I'm on tumblr @firelord-boomerang.
> 
> See you in Part 2... if there is a part 2...? Haha, just kidding... unless...


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